Copper and Gold
by fireflyfish
Summary: It's not easy being big sister to the Chosen One, but Obi-Wan Kenobi is doing her best.
1. Attachment

"ANAKIN SKYWALKER!"

Obi-Wan Kenobi's voice rang out through the massive garage housed within the Jedi Temple complex. She stood in the entryway, her hands on her hips waiting to see if her truant Padawan heard her summons.

Gaging by the silence coming from his dilapidated speeder and the small crowd surrounding it, he had not.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and then five more, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to gain control of her anger. It was unseemly for a Jedi Knight to be seen screeching at their Padawan learner like a hawkbat and, really, to be expressing any negative emotion stronger than a slight distaste for rotten food. She took another deep breath and reminded herself that she had a promise to keep.

 _Promise me, Obi-Wan. You will train the boy?_

The Jedi let out a soft groan and straightened her shoulders before she marched over to her Padawan. _I am training the boy, Master. He is impossible._

Anakin's fawn-colored Padawan's braid was hanging out from underneath a battered speeder held up off the floor by two heavy load stands. The guts of the machine were littered across the floor of the Temple garage, a ring of curious younglings and mechanics watching as the infamous boy from Tatooine muttered to himself in Huttese.

Or they had been, but now they were staring at her.

Obi-Wan curled her hands into fists in her sleeves and added another ten handstand push-ups to Anakin's impending punishment.

The sudden appearance of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Sith Slayer and the only Padawan to be promoted to full Knighthood for bravery in the field in a millennium, sent the younglings scurrying back to their creche masters and reminded the mechanics they had other places to be. Places to be that would still let them spy on the 'Chosen One' and his irate master, anyway.

Obi-Wan walked up to the TX-7748 model speeder and stopped, her foot tapping as she waited for the Force to announce her presence.

Anakin's small, oil-stained hand reached out from under the hood of the vehicle, straining for a tool that was just beyond the brown boots he failed to notice. His hand danced over the floor until it came into contact with said boots and then vanished back under the speeder.

 _Master?_ The faintest nervous question brushed against the durasteel mental walls of Obi-Wan's mind.

Her mouth flattened into a line and she waited.

Anakin pushed himself out from under the speeder, covered in oil and dirt, his robes ruined and his Padawan braid almost unraveling as he reclined on the hovering mechanic's creeper. He smiled up at Obi-Wan, an earnest attempt to win her over with his boyish charm. "Hello, Master! What brings you to the garage?"

Obi-Wan arched one copper brow at her Padawan. "What time is it, my young apprentice?"

Anakin twisted on the creeper to peer at the chrono on the far wall. "Uhm...fourteen hundred hours, Master?"

"And where are you supposed to be at half past thirteen hundred hours?" Obi-Wan patiently walked Anakin through his mental schedule.

She watched as realization followed by horror washed over her Padawan's face. "I… was… supposed to report to the Council?"

Obi-Wan raised both brows and tilted her head ever-so-little to the right. "And what were you reporting to the Council for?"

Anakin paled. "Being late to my meditation and theory classes…"

Obi-Wan took a step back as the boy scrambled to his feet. Apologies spilled forth as he grabbed at a blue rag and tried to make himself look somewhat presentable. He gave up and stood at stiff attention, like someone waiting for the firing line, blue eyes full of fear as he looked up at his master.

 _Patience Obi-Wan. You must have patience._

She let out a sigh and shook her head. "You've missed your appointment and so you must make a new one. Unfortunately Master Plo will be leaving for a meditative retreat tomorrow and so you will have to make your report to Masters Yoda and Windu."

Anakin turned grey, as if he had been told he was going to face nest of gundarks without a lightsaber and one hand tied behind his back. "I will…? Can't I just wait until Master Plo comes back?"

"No. That will not be possible." Obi-Wan did not envy her Padawan's fate but she knew that he had to take responsibility for his own actions, or inaction, in this case. She would no doubt hear about this from both Masters tomorrow but she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

"Now, go clean up and report to the sparring grounds," she sighed, waving one hand in dismissal. "And after dinner, you will clean up this mess."

Anakin nodded and turned on his heel, running out of the garage as fast as his legs could carry him. He was halfway out of his ruined robes when he realized that Obi-Wan hadn't given him a five-minute lecture on his appearance or the mess he made in the garage or the fact that he completely forgot to attend a meeting before the Council. He paused, sitting down on his bed, and wondered why she had been so nice to him.

 _Maybe somebody spoke to her. Maybe she had a vision of Master Qui-Gon and he told her to lay off me. Maybe I'm going to be transferred to another Master and that's REALLY why I'm meeting with Master Yoda and Windu! Maybe…_

But then a far more rational thought popped into his head.

Maybe she was just being nice because he was **really** in it now.

Anakin groaned and flopped backwards onto his pillow, one hand over his eyes. Were they going to throw him out of the Order? Where would he go? What would he do? He didn't have his own lightsaber, not yet, and he would need one to go rescue his mom and free the rest of the slaves on Tatooine. And he would need a ship to get him there, and credits for food and probably a droid to help around the ship and…

"Anakin?" Obi-Wan's voice crackled over the comlink in the door control panel. "I do hope you haven't died of embarrassment. Master Drallig is demonstrating a most interesting technique and it would be a shame if you missed the practice session."

The young boy sat straight up in bed and reached out with the Force for his boots and robes, which flew unerringly to his hand. He was dressed in three minutes and out the door in two more. Six minutes later he was sprinting out of the turbolift and skidding into the practice arena, afraid he was missing out on something important.

"I'm here! I'm here! I'm sorry I'm late, Master!" Anakin gasped, panting at his sudden exertion.

"Glad to see you're early for once, Skywalker," Master Drallig chuckled, marking out sparring areas from the control panel on the wall. "We'll start when the other Padawans file in. But, since you're early, you can help me demonstrate the technique."

Anakin looked around, confused for a moment until he caught sight of Obi-Wan, standing in the shadow of a column, her arms folded into her sleeves and something that might be a smile in her eyes. He looked at her, confused and worried he had fallen into some kind of a trap. But when she shook her head and waved her hand in a gesture that said _Go! Have fun!_ he decided to trust her and asked how he could assist the Battlemaster.

"We're learning the first part of Soresu today," Master Drallig smiled down at the talented Padawan. "I wonder if you'll be as good as your master?"

Obi-Wan watched the lesson, first from the sidelines and then from the balcony overhead. She walked in slow circles, always keeping an eye on her Padawan, watching for weaknesses to be improved on and strengths to be honed. Power, speed and endurance came naturally to Anakin but flexibility and agility were things he was lacking in.

That and patience, which was a must for a true master of Soresu.

By the time the lesson was finished, Anakin looked exhausted. His blond hair was pushed back from his forehead, sticking up in odd spikes, and his tunic was soaked with sweat. He collapsed against a taupe stone pillar, drinking greedily from a canister of water.

Anakin looked small and alone amid the chattering swirl of Padawans and their masters. No one spoke to him and a few outright ignored him as they passed, perhaps annoyed by what they wrongly viewed as his unearned skill in combat.

Obi-Wan knew otherwise and swept into the hallway, her head high and countenance calm and beautific. In moments like these, were the Temple and its members exposed their weaknesses and petty jealousies, she felt it was important to fake the calm and serenity expected of a truly great master.

Even if she felt like taking every single one of them to task for their uncharitable behavior.

"Well done, my young apprentice," Obi-Wan said, standing over Anakin and casually blocking him from the view of others with the folds of her brown robe. She wanted to say more to the others, to show Anakin that she was on his side, but that would be unbecoming of her and disrespectful to her peers. She had no business judging how others trained their Padawans.

The soft chimes of the evening meal rolled through the Temple, in harmony with the small roar of hunger coming from Anakin's stomach. Obi-Wan covered a smile with her hand and nodded. "Go wash up, and I will see you in the central hall."

Obi-Wan had already gone through the line of the main hall and found a spot for herself and Anakin at a small table with a few of her friends. She watched the entrances as she idly picked at her sauted Chandrillian bass, wondering what in the blazes was taking Anakin so long.

"Do be patient, Obi-Wan," Luminara Unduli advised, taking a long sip of a berry juice from Pantora. "I'm sure the boy will be along shortly."

"I'm sure this is Anakin's favorite room in the whole Temple," Quinlan Voss laughed, leaning back in his chair. "What young human boy doesn't like eating?"

As if to demonstrate his claim, the Kiffar took a large bite into his own piece of fish and downed it with a swig of juice. "When I was his age, I think I spent more time in here than anywhere else."

Obi-Wan rolled her eyes. "Where IS he? It's not like him to be late for a chance to fill his belly."

Luminara laughed, a bright trill of humor. Quinlan shrugged, finishing off his drink. "I've heard from the younglings that Anakin is… less than popular. Maybe he just doesn't want to be ignored en masse."

Obi-Wan frowned, stabbing at the vegetables that accompanied her steak. She wasn't blind. She knew that Anakin usually took his meals either back in his room or down in the garage. When he did eat in the great hall, he sat with her, a blond shadow focused on eating as fast as possible before running back off into the shadows of the Temple.

"Has he made no friends?" Luminara asked, her gentle voice showing that she was trying to be helpful. "What of other younglings his age?"

"He…" Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand down her face. "He fancies himself above them. After all, he is a Padawan and they are not. He is stronger in the Force than those his age but not as skilled as the older Padawans, who seem displeased whenever he is included in their activities. I cannot make people like Anakin."

"Pity," Quinlan mused as he bit into a crisp, pickled vegetable. "Any advice from Masters Yoda or Windu?"

"Trust in the Force," Obi-Wan snorted. "Master Windu seemed to imply that Anakin's unpopularity had something to do with my tutelage."

"Perhaps Kit would have an idea," Luminara mused. "I do not know a soul who doesn't like him."

Quinlan gestured with his utensil. "Give him time, Obi-Wan. He'll find his people."

Luminara nodded in agreement and noticed Obi-Wan's far-away face. She followed her gaze, turning around to see the boy in question, standing on the edge of the great hall, hiding in the dove grey shadows thrown by the monolithic columns.

Anakin's eyes searched over the collected group of Jedi and when he didn't find who he was looking for, he darted back into the Temple, his mangled Padawan braid trailing after him.

"Oh dear," Luminara murmured.

Obi-Wan stood up quietly, gathering her tray and utensils before bidding a good evening to her friends.

She marched over to the waste processing droid and handed over the remains of her meal before she hurried out of the hall, her departure noted only by the most observant of Masters, some of whom shook their heads and wondered if taking in the slave from Tatooine was a good idea.

Anakin's stomach roared in protest as he catalogued the speeder parts he had ripped out of the vehicle earlier in the day. Lightsaber instruction was always exciting but all that hard work made him ravenously hungry and that meant eating in the hall with Master Obi-Wan and…

The rest of the Jedi Order.

He let out a huff and told his belly that there would be food later. In the past, when he was a slave in Watto's shop and hunger was as familiar as the twin suns in the sky of Tatooine, a firm thought made his gut behave until he was free to go home to his mother. She always had something warm and filling for him and the promise of seconds if he asked. He never asked because he knew that would be stealing her dinner but it was the thought that was important.

His missed his mother so much right now. Anakin rubbed at his eyes and lined the bolts up on the floor, making sure they were in the right order for reassembly tomorrow.

He wondered what she was doing, if Watto was being mean to her. Was she safe? What if there was a sandstorm? Maybe Watto had sold her?

The thought of Watto selling his mother sent stabs of fear and anxiety through him and he barely held in a sudden sob that tried to claw its way free from his throat.

Anakin scrunched his eyes close and tried to remember what Obi-Wan taught him.

 _There is no emotion. There is peace._

He couldn't remember the next line and let out a curse as he threw a wrench to the ground, listening to it chime against the floor as it bounced and then skidded over to a pair of brown boots. Anakin rubbed his sleeve over his eyes, trying to hide his tears from whatever "peaceful" Jedi was coming to lecture him on his unseemly tears disturbing the Force.

Anakin wondered angrily how something as powerful as the Force could be "disturbed" by a miserable, homesick ten-year-old.

"I think you dropped this," Obi-Wan's voice floated into the misery clouding Anakin's mind as she held out the chrome wrench to her Padawan.

Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan, his blue eyes rimmed with red, his nose a dismaying shade of crimson and bright tears threatening to overwhelm his equilibrium and that of any sentient nearby. Her Padawan was mightily strong in the Force and any time a truly powerful wave of despair settled over him the Force sensitives around him noticed, complaining of sudden headaches and rogue thoughts pressing against their mental shields. It was only through constant exposure and her own innate gift that Obi-Wan was able to keep a relatively cool head around her fiercely emotional whirlwind of an apprentice.

"Thanks," Anakin mumbled, taking the wrench back and putting in his tool belt, made of soft grey bantha leather and a gift from his mother. Another sob bubbled up from the depths of his soul and Anakin curled his hands into fists, trying to control it.

He wasn't a baby. He was a Padawan! One of the youngest in the history of the whole Jedi Order! He wasn't going to cry. He was stronger than that. He had to be stronger if he wanted to return to Tatooine and free his mother.

Obi-Wan put one arm around his shoulder and gently pulled him to her side.

"I miss Qui-Gon Jinn," Obi-Wan sighed, looking out at nothing. "I still think he'll come back one day."

Anakin looked up at his master, stunned at her openness. Obi-Wan hardly ever talked about her Master and when she did, it was usually to demonstrate how NOT to do something.

He rubbed at his nose and scooted a little closer. "You do?"

Obi-Wan nodded, still not looking at her padawan but sensing the ebb and flow of his emotions, the fickle strength of the hurricane that was Anakin Skywalker. "I do. Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better if _**I**_ died on Naboo instead of him."

Anakin's heart seized and he shook his head. He didn't know why but the very idea of a universe without Obi-Wan Kenobi in it seemed like a terribly lonely place to him. "No, Master. That wouldn't be better. You should both be here."

Obi-Wan turned to smile at Anakin and leaned in close, her blue eyes warm. "That is kind of you to say."

Anakin loved it when Obi-Wan smiled at him like this, a soft, shared secret between the two of them. It was almost like being back on Tatooine with his mother.

Almost, but it would have to do for now, until he was strong enough to free all the slaves and not just his mother. The "all" lingered in his mind, strong and undeniable.

"I think you've cleaned up enough for today," Obi-Wan announced, standing upright and offering her Padawan a hand. "Time to retire for the evening, and we must do something about your braid. This is unacceptable, Anakin."

The boy let out a sigh at the return of Master Kenobi, which meant this quiet warmth between them was over. Anakin would go back to being "my young apprentice" or, even worse,

"my very young Padawan". He hated it when she mentioned how much younger he was, like it mattered when he was already two lightsaber forms ahead of younglings the same age.

"Right," Obi-Wan announced to no one in particular. "Last one there has to clean out the filters on the refresher."

Anakin frowned and looked up at Obi-Wan, who had already taken off running back to their suite. He let out a yelp of protest and dashed after his master, who loped lazily through the hallway, chuckling as her young charge pushed himself forward with the Force.

He caught up to her and rushed again, the Force singing with joy at his passing. Anakin did not need to know that she was going to have a droid change out the filters or that his dinner was waiting for him. It was enough to hear him laugh and see that bright smile on his face as he turned the corner towards their room and let out a whoop of victory.

Later that evening, after some childish gloating, a few admonishing eye rolls and a modest acceptance of defeat on her part, Anakin and Obi-Wan sat on his bed. The Padawan sat in front of his master, frowning at an astronavigation chart while his master ran a comb through his short hair, setting his trainee tail and padawan braid to right.

"What are the coordinates for Pantora?" Obi-Wan asked, her voice soft as she brushed Anakin's tail into something far more credible to the Order.

Anakin closed his eyes and set down the star chart, answering perfectly. He liked this, liked feeling like Obi-Wan was taking care of him.

Like she wanted to take care of him.

"And the coordinates for Kashyyyk?" Obi Wan murmured, holding a few ties in her mouth as she ran the soft blond hair of Anakin's tail over her hands. She nodded in approval as he recited the answer and the next two after that. Her fingers worked deftly over the little lock of hair, one that just brushed his shoulder. She tied the strand off, hoping this knot, the Rathtar's Kiss, would hold when all of the other ones had barely lasted a week with Anakin Skywalker. Hopefully it would be stronger than the chaos that seemed to swirl around her padawan.

"Master?" Anakin yawned, slumping back against Obi-Wan's chest. "Do you know the coordinates of Tatooine? I do. They're…"

Obi-Wan cut him off quietly. "Quadrant Besht, Sector 037, ex two niner, why five six and zed eight four."

Anakin blinked, surprised. "Yeah… You know… I like you better when you're like this."

"You mean when I'm not shouting at you?" Obi-Wan asked, a smile in her voice. She looked out at their shared room, full of Anakin's knicknacks and droid parts. There was his pod-racing flag and a model of the Naboo cruiser they took to Tatooine, where Qui-Gon had found this small, blond-haired bundle of power and destiny.

Her Padawan yawned, his head growing heavy. "Yeah… don't like Master Kenobi."

 _He is the Chosen One_ ,the Force whispered. Or was it just a memory of her old master's voice?

 _No,_ Obi-Wan thought. _He is my Padawan now. You cannot have him. Not yet._

Anakin sighed, a sleepy smile on his face. "I like Obi-Wan best."

Obi-Wan gently slid out from behind Anakin and tucked him into bed. She bundled the covers up around him and laid another blanket over him since the night was forecast to be cooler than usual. Her desert boy had not yet adapted to climate control and temperate weather. "Good night, Anakin."

"Good...ahm….night….Obi-Waaaaaahn…" And with a loud yawn, he was out cold.

"Good night, little one," she murmured to the room and then walked over to her bed, happily sinking into the warm embrace of sleep herself.


	2. Three Questions

"There are thousands of people in this temple and I cannot possibly believe that every last one of them dislikes you, Anakin," Obi-Wan sighed as she sat cross-legged on a meditation pillow that faced the western wall of the Temple and the shaded garden sheltered there. "You are overreacting, my young Padawan, and letting your emotions get the better of you."

Anakin rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. _I hate it when she calls me that. I am not nine years old anymore._

"No, you are not," Obi-Wan replied with a crisp tone, wincing a little at the unintentional volume of his thoughts. "You are eleven standard years old. I know. You've told me."

Anakin folded his arms over his chest and contracted into a proper sulk. He loudly patched up the holes in his mental shields, leaking angry and sullen gusts of emotion as he worked.

Obi-Wan let out a long, exhausted breath and turned to her Padawan. "I am sorry, Anakin. But I cannot understand how you have failed to make one single friend in two years. You can take apart an Em-Dee-eight and reassemble it with your eyes closed but this simple task eludes you. Why?"

Anakin shrugged, his blue eyes fixated on a spot on the far wall.

Obi-Wan waited patiently, knowing her silence would do far more to convince her Padawan to open up than any sharp words or loud chastising. Silence unsettled Anakin. It made him antsy and chatty as he hurried to fill up the quiet with noise to distract his thoughts with.

It was another thing to add to the list of things she needed to work with him on.

 _That list will never end. We will both die old and grey, still Master and Padawan trying to be still and silent but failing._

She felt like she was always failing him.

Anakin cracked, hands jerking free from his glower to gesture wildly. "They're jealous! I'm better than them! I can do things the other Padawans can't and they're jealous!"

Obi-Wan's eyebrows arched in dismay. "Ah… I see. And is that all?"

The emotional boy looked off to the side, his hands balled on his knees. "They… They just don't like me! Last month this one _sleamo_ said his master told him not to talk to me! Said the Council made a mistake! That 'a Jedi of Kenobi's talent shouldn't be wasted on a feral desert rat' like me!"

That was what really scorched Anakin, the idea that his existence in the Temple was damaging to his master in some way. That he made Obi-Wan look bad because of who he was.

That he was bad for Obi-Wan to be around.

Obi-Wan was all he had left and if the Council took her away…

"Ah… yes," Obi-Wan murmured, her voice cool and soft, like a still pool. "I believe I was there when Padawan Carr Du'signe shared that _tidbit_ with you."

Anakin knew that tone and shivered. It usually meant he had pushed his master too far or asked too many questions about the Sith Lord his master had defeated. That tone meant laps around the temple gardens, leg-breaking frog-hoppers or worse.

"Yeah… well," he huffed and looked away. "If his master is saying it then that means the Council is saying it too. They _really_ don't like me."

Obi-Wan blinked, as if drawn back into her body, and she smiled at her Padawan. "I don't know about that. They censured Padawan Du'Signe and his master, Froosh Wexl. They're leaving for Bandomeer on one of the praxeum ships tomorrow."

"What?" Anakin's head jerked up in shock. "Censured? What does that mean? What's a praxeum ship? Can I get censured? Is that bad?"

Obi-Wan gave her apprentice an enigmatic smile. "Yes, you could get censured and it is not a pleasant thing. Luckily, I have not experienced it."

 _Well, not since I was Qui-Gon's Padawan._

She rose up from her meditation pose to stretch, twisting this way and that as if blown by the soft breeze of the Coruscant twilight. Anakin popped up next to her, his eyes full of questions, his mouth open to ask ten more, all at the same time if that were possible.

"I am hungry, Padawan," Obi-Wan placed her hand on Anakin's head, laughing softly as he squirmed out from under her sisterly attention. "Bring us some dinner from the main hall and I shall see you in our suite. And mind you do not get censured on the way!"

Anakin was already off at a run, because the sooner he got them dinner, the sooner Master Obi-Wan could tell him what all being censured entailed and what the _kriff_ a praxeum ship was and why he hadn't heard of it before now?

"You have three questions, young one," Obi-Wan said after finishing off a mouthful of spicy noodles from a Mid-Rim planet. "Choose wisely."

"Three?!" Anakin protested, the Force crackling with how unfair he found this to be.

Obi-Wan smiled into her noodles and took another bite, enjoying his frustration. It was about time he got some of his own back. "Yes, three."

She watched as the boy shoved a large mouthful of noodles in, his mind working through the myriad of questions he no doubt had. She could see his mind work, trying to distill them into three coherent and comprehensive queries. This would serve him well later when the Council would send him on investigative missions.

And the earlier she got used to the idea that her little golden shadow would be leaving her side, the better.

Obi-Wan took a sip of sweetleaf juice and arched an eyebrow as Anakin shoved another mouthful of noodles in, his brow still furrowed in deep thought. She reached over to him and touched his forehead. "Don't forget to breathe, nerf-herder."

Anakin jerked away from his master's gentle mocking, the intense furrow momentarily directed at her before the first question clicked into place. "Ha! How did the Council know about what Du'signe said, to censure him and his master?"

Obi-Wan took a large bite of noodles, a teasing grin on her face. There were times when it was easy to forget they were master and Padawan. Instead they were something more like siblings, brother and sister, forever entwined in loving antagonism.

She felt these were their best times, when it was just the two of them, in private, away from the Order and the rules that seemed designed to break the spirit of anyone who did not fit the mold that Obi-Wan herself was barely suited to.

Anakin groaned. "C'mon, Master Obi-Waaaaan!"

She took a long, unnecessarily long, sip of sweetleaf juice.

"You're killing me!" the boy slumped backwards into his chair, noodles momentarily forgotten. "Obi-Waaaaaaaaaan!"

"I told them," she answered, her voice entirely too chipper for a proper master.

Later she would chastise herself for her selfish moment of schadenfreude, but she had learned early that the Jedi Order was not made of identical compassionate warriors who strived to be the best example every hour of every day. The Temple was full of individuals, mostly good, some less than, and a rare few that perhaps shouldn't have ever been considered for training. Master Froosh Wexl and his Padawan Du'Signe were of the third group and Obi-Wan was relieved to discover their censure involved them being sent off to an Agri Corps posting, far away from Anakin. Perhaps some humility would help reset their arrogant and unkind world view.

She knew she had been utterly humbled when that had once been marked as her fate.

But she was getting distracted and Anakin was staring at her with an open mouth and she really did not need to see the remains of his noodles. "Please close your mouth, Anakin. That is revolting."

His mouth closed with a snap, the boy still bug-eyed. "You told the Council?!"

"Is that your second question?" Obi-Wan smiled up from behind her glass.

"NO!" Anakin nearly shouted, shaking his head vehemently. _Master Kenobi did that for me? She… she told the Council about that sleamo for me?_

Anakin felt a surge of absolute love and adoration for his master explode through his spirit and a bright smile appeared on his face.

 _She did that for_ _ **me.**_

Obi-Wan looked down at her plate of noodles, pickled vegetables and grilled meat, spearing a bite with her fork. She could feel Anakin's overwhelming delight and joy through the Force and it was taking quite a bit of control to not pull the boy into a fierce, tight hug and swear on the stars above that no one else would ever speak out of turn about him again. But she couldn't promise that and wouldn't so it was time they moved the conversation on.

"Padawan…" Obi-Wan murmured as she finished her bite. "You have until the end of my meal to ask your next two questions."

Joy evaporated in a gust of anxious curiosity as Anakin turned his sharp mind back to crafting questions that required more than one simple answer.

There was a long period of silence as Anakin continued to stuff food into his face while Obi-Wan did so with far more elan. It was a companionable respite from their usual dinner time conversation, which usually consisted of Obi-Wan reprimanding Anakin for his terrible manners and Anakin glaring sullenly out at nothing.

Obi-Wan liked this much better.

 _He seems to be enjoying this. Perhaps his acting out is a sign that I have not challenged him enough._

"Ah ha!" Anakin announced, slamming a fist down on his leg. "What all do you know about Jedi praxeum ships and the one that's arriving tomorrow?"

He caught her mid-bite and she held up her hand for a moment before swallowing and setting her fork down. "Well thought out, Anakin."

He smiled, proud of himself.

"The praxeum ships travel around the edges of the Galaxy," Obi-Wan began, scanning her memories for what Master Qui-Gon had taught her. He had considered taking her aboard one, once, before they were assigned a mission to Corellia that nearly ended up in a marriage for her master. By the time they got themselves out of that mess, the ship had already left for the Expansion Region and Master Yoda sent them back out to deal with pirates near Bespin.

"They fly from system to system, providing advanced study for masters, knights and Padawan alike," she continued, wishing she had a schematic to show Anakin. That would have kept him entertained for days. "They visit some of the furthest outlying satellite temples, performing repair and in depth scholarship. Sometimes they encounter new systems or peoples who are just stepping out into the galaxy. They can be a… _challenging_ posting for those who prefer routine and the creature comforts of the Temple and Coruscant."

 _Like Master Froosh and his bullying Padawan._

"And the ship that's arriving tomorrow?" Anakin asked, his eyes alight with the idea of adventures in the far reaches of the galaxy. "Can I see it? Will we go on it? What spaceport is it docking in?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "That's three extra questions. Is that how you really wish to end your investigation?"

Anakin collapsed into another full body eye roll of frustration. "Master! C'mon! I've never even heard of a ship like this and I've been _all_ over the starfighter specs in the archives."

"It's called the _Chu'unthor_ ," Obi-Wan continued, ignoring Anakin's fit. "And it is the last one in operation. It will stay in orbit around Coruscant and your brother and sister Jedi will take a shuttle to the Temple. I'm sorry to tell you that you won't be able to visit while it is here. You will be attending the welcoming ceremony for the initiates and Padawans who will be joining the Temple with their Masters and fellow Knights."

Anakin looked like Obi-Wan had just stabbed him in the gut. "A welcome ceremony? Do I have to?"

Obi-Wan finished her meal and nodded. "Yes. You have to. Don't forget you promised to clean up your workstation in the hangar bay."

"What?" Anakin gasped. "I have one more question! No fair!"

"By my count I have answered eight questions during the span of this meal which is more than double the number I granted you," Obi-Wan said, the mental robes of Master Kenobi settling over her as she took her dishes over to a small depression in the wall and placed them inside and let the temple droid service sweep them away to be washed. "Finish your meal and report to the hangar bay or I will forget to renew your privileges there."

Anakin looked scandalized but he knew when he had pushed Obi-Wan too far. He scarfed down the rest of his meal, dragged his sleeve across his mouth and nearly flung his empty plates into the cleaning receptacle before he darted back into the temple, leaving his master alone with her thoughts and an empty room.

 _Please let there be a friend for Anakin on that ship,_ Obi-Wan prayed to the Force, a bone-deep plea for some kind of benevolence in the hardscrabble life of her Padawan. _I cannot be Master_ _ **and**_ _playmate to him. He needs friends that aren't droids, that don't speak binary._

The Force was silent around her and she decided that a few velocities in the training halls would help her clear her mind and purge some of the negative emotions that were clouding her objectivity.

 _There is no passion, there is serenity._


	3. Binding

If Anakin had known how much time Jedis spent in long, boring ceremonies, he might have reconsidered traveling to Coruscant with Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi. Not that he really had a choice but, hypothetically, he might have thought twice about it.

By his count, he and Obi-Wan had been standing in the Grand Reception Hall for at least an hour and he was completely and utterly bored. He rocked backwards on his heels just to feel the faint touch of his master's energy against him, pushing him back into line. Obi-Wan's Force touch felt good, like the tide of an ocean, strong enough to keep him in place but gentle enough that he never felt overwhelmed.

"Anakin…" Obi-Wan murmured, her voice low and exasperated. "Be respectful. These are your new peers and elders."

Anakin sighed and frowned at the assembled line of beings who would be slotted into different classes, none of whom looked particularly friendly. They all looked the same, dressed in identical cream and browns with their Temple faces on, a studied serenity that he knew hided whatever they were really feeling.

 _More of the same. More boring Jedi who won't like me and will just talk about me behind my back. Why am I even here?_

Anakin was starting to brew up a thunderhead of self-pity and Obi-Wan closed her eyes, bowing her head to rub her temple. The boy's anger made the hair on her neck stand up and she had to consciously unclench her left hand. Force, but he was powerful!

The initiates in front of them started squirming, muttering to each other and the master to Anakin's left loudly shushed them, looking over the boy's head to glare pointedly at Obi-Wan. She met his glance once before she turned her attention back to the speech, hoping that the head of the praxeum ship council was going to bring an end to his speech soon.

"And another blessing the Force has brought to us is one of fidelity," the old master said, his voice rasped and rough with age. "That beautiful and amazing bond through which the many become one under the benevolent auspices of the Council and the Order!"

Anakin let out a muttered Huttese curse and Obi-Wan's patience snapped. She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away as fast as his legs could go.

They hurried down one hallway and then another before finally coming to a quiet spot halfway between the gardens and the classrooms, empty thanks to the welcome ceremony.

"Must you be _such_ an ill-behaved brat?" Obi-Wan demanded, her blue eyes sharp. "Perhaps you find a simple welcoming ceremony beneath you, Anakin Skywalker, but I assure you that there were others in attendance who were enjoying themselves!"

"Are you serious?!" Anakin scoffed, as much as an eleven-year-old with chubby cheeks could scoff. "Master Plo was totally checked out and Master Yoda was _asleep_! That was the most boring, pointless thing I've done here and you've made me do a lot boring, pointless _poodoo_ in this place!"

Obi-Wan's eyes shot open, her mouth agape. Boring, pointless _poodoo_?

Had Anakin just insulted her entire way of life? Did he just call her tutelage boring and pointless? And why was the typical sulking of an eleven-year-old boy making her so angry today?

"I...I…" Obi-Wan shook her head, her silver tongue failing her. "No. I am not discussing this with you further. You have disrespected me, your fellow Jedi, and the Temple. Your garage privileges are revoked until further notice and you will report to Master Mundi tomorrow for training practice."

Now it was Anakin's turn to gape in shock at Obi-Wan. " _What_?! You can't send me to Master Mundi! He hates me!"

"Jedi do not hate!" Obi-Wan snapped, her temper fraying to its last strand. "The only person here who seems to hate anything is _you_ , Anakin. Think on that tomorrow. For now, return to our room and meditate on this. I will be there shortly."

And with that, Obi-Wan turned on her heels and marched into the Temple, the brown folds of her cloak snapping behind her in her haste and fury, pride and hurt stinging her heart as she left.

Anakin stood in the hallway, shocked and abandoned, suddenly feeling very small and cold. He wrapped his arms around himself and watched the figure of Obi-Wan retreat into darkness, the click-clacking of her boots growing fainter until he was well and truly alone.

He hung his head and turned around, walking off into the shadows of the Temple. He told himself he wouldn't cry, wasn't crying, even as tears slipped off his cheeks and were rubbed out of existence into his sleeves. He didn't need Obi-Wan Kenobi. He didn't need anybody.

Right?

* * *

Un-Jedi-like shouts and grunts coming from the practice room piqued the curiosity of the Grand Master of the Jedi Order and he hobbled over to the door, peering through the glass with narrowed eyes. After a moment or two, he shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. He tapped the entry button with his gimmer stick and padded into the room.

Obi-Wan was too wrapped up in her velocities to notice the diminutive master as she lunged, slashed, and stabbed at imagined opponents who would never dare call her boring or pointless.

Yoda settled down onto his haunches and waited for exhaustion to set in and the tempest to still.

She finished with several wide swings, a particularly nasty spinning attack, and then a sharp and lethal strike that would have instantly killed any opponent who had the misfortune of being on the other end of that blue-white blade.

Obi-Wan stood there for a long moment, breathing heavily as sweat dripped off her face and her heartbeat struggled hard to come back to something more manageable. Her blue eyes were lost in thought and Yoda wondered when the young Knight had developed such flawless shielding.

It seemed there was much more hidden behind those grey-blue eyes then he realized.

"Hard work, training a Padawan is," Yoda observed, pushing himself upright as he observed Obi-Wan's reaction.

She let out a breath and seemed to collapse for a moment, her arm dropping and her lightsaber dying with a sigh. Taking a moment to collect herself, she stood up stiffly and bowed to the Grand Master. "Forgive me for not greeting you when you came in Master Yoda. I was… "

"Angry?" Yoda asked, his head canted to the side, ears perked up. "Heard you, I did. Pain, I sensed."

Obi-Wan, too exhausted to mind her usual manners, rolled her eyes and walked over to the chrome spigot where fresh water gushed out into a stainless steel cup. "I'm fine Master Yoda. And I am honored by your concern, but…"

"Charm me, you will not, Obi-Wan," Yoda huffed, tapping his gimmer stick on the ground. "Of my line, you are. Thrice times over my padawan you are."

Obi-Wan looked at Yoda and then nodded, bowing her head. "Yes, Master Yoda. I am sorry my training disturbed your walk. I was… trying to work through my negative emotions."

"Sensed it, I did," Yoda sniffed, meandering over to Obi-Wan, his clawed feet making sharp echoing noises in the chamber. "Fought did you, with Skywalker?"

She nodded, exhaustion of more than one kind plain on her face. "He… He insulted the Order! He said that my tutelage was… boring and pointless! He disrespected the masters from the Chu'unathor and nearly started a rabble with the initiates! And he keeps insisting that everyone hates him!"

Yoda nodded, looking away as Obi-Wan collapsed into a sitting position on the ground, her legs crossed in front of her. She took another long sip of water and wiped the sweat from her face with the sleeve of her tunic, something she chastised Anakin about earlier in the day. Could she not even follow her own instructions?

"Hate?" Yoda asked, his voice curious. "Truly believe this, does he? The whole Order, you say?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I… I don't know. He feels everything with such passion and conviction. It is hard to know what is true and what he has made himself believe to be true."

Yoda nodded, his cane clacking on the ground as he walked around Obi-Wan. "Remember, do you, when you were eleven years old? Objective, were you?"

She shook her head. "I… I don't know. I doubt it."

The little green master nodded, coming around to Obi-Wan's other side. He reached out with one clawed hand and touched her shoulder and for a moment, she felt as she were under a mighty wooshryr tree on Kashyyyk, covered in its cool, protecting shadow. The fires of her anger seemed small and petty now, a symbol of her own immaturity as a teacher.

"Your teachings, you are not," Yoda said, his voice rough and ancient, like soft moss on the ruins of Tython. "The Jedi Order, you are not. Be only that which you are. Attachment to these things, dangerous. Pride and anger, siblings these emotions are. To the Dark Side, they will lead."

Obi-Wan nodded, feeling her shame grow worse by the minute. She had abandoned her charge and undercut another master by using his tutelage as punishment! How could she have been so stupid and blind? Her heart felt heavy and full of guilt.

Qui-Gon would never have made such a mistake.

THWACK!

"Ow!" Obi-Wan gasped, rubbing the back of her head where, she was positive, a welt would rise up later that evening.

"Gone, our friend is," Yoda said, wiggling down onto his haunches and holding his gimmer stick in front of him. "One with the Force he is. Paths not taken, know we cannot."

Obi-Wan nodded, a little confused or perhaps concussed. Yoda had a wicked arm when he wanted to. "Yes, Master Yoda. I… I am sorry. I just… I feel…"

"Lost?" Yoda asked. "Abandoned? Alone?"

She nodded, her hands folded in her lap. "Yes. And… discarded."

Yoda's eyes opened at that, round and amused. "Oh! Hehehe… Jealous of Skywalker, were you? Once? Hmmm?"

Obi-Wan rolled her eyes again, counting on Yoda's affection for her to get her through without another smacking of his gimmer stick. "No. I am not. Who would want to be the Chosen One? How do you live with yourself? What if you fail? What if you succeed? What if you turn to the Dark Side? How can anyone put that on a nine year old _**child**_?"

"And on his Master, hmmm?" Yoda asked, gently poking Obi-Wan's boot. "Fear of failure I sense. Of the future? Near and distant?"

Obi-Wan bowed her head and nodded, feeling very much like a chastised eleven-year-old. "Yes… It seems there is still much more for me to learn, Master Yoda."

"Always a Padawan you will be," Yoda chuckled, pushing himself upright. "In the ways of the Force, still a Padawan, I am. Always learning, always growing. Padawans in Master's robes we are."

Obi-Wan looked up at her initiate master, comforted by that dry laugh. "I cannot imagine you as a Padawan, Master Yoda."

"Oh?" Yoda turned around, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So old am I? Terrible Padawan, I was. Too many questions, I asked. Like Qui-Gon. Hated ceremonies I did. Like Skywalker. Hid in the gardens, I tried. Found me always, my master did. Patient, he was. Like you."

Obi-Wan felt deeply humbled, bowing her head to the Grand Master as he walked to the door. "Thank you Master Yoda. For speaking with me. For… for understanding."

"Easy, my task is," Yoda said as he willed the door open with the Force. "Happily done, it was. Envy yours, I do not. Trust in Obi-Wan, you must. Feelings you have, share you do, with Skywalker. Qui-Gon's burden, both must share. Never alone, you are. Together, the path must be walked."

And with that bit of mysterious wisdom, the Jedi master was gone, chuckling to himself as he shuffled down the hallway.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and pushed herself upright. She needed to apologize to Anakin and hoped that she hadn't done irreparable harm to their relationship.

* * *

The speeder bay was dark and empty when Anakin keyed open the door and stepped inside. He jumped as the door whooshed shut, leaving him a heavy grey twilight that was partially illuminated by safety lights that glowed along the seam where the wall met the floor. The boy looked up into the darkness of the garage, dismayed to find that he could not see the ceiling anymore.

The speeders were lined up in neat rows, from single seaters all the way up to three large skiffs that could carry as many as a dozen beings. There were even a few small single-seater ships, painted orange and green, he remembered as he stepped further into the cavernous and empty room.

It looked like everyone else in the Temple was still at the welcome ceremony.

 _Good_ ,Anakin fumed, turning to the wall behind him and feeling around for the light switch that would at least allow him to turn the security lights up to full power. His fingers ghosted over the panel and with a flick the entire speeder bay buzzed to life, the sudden light momentarily blinding the boy.

 _Which one should I take?_ There were so many different craft sitting in the stillness, waiting for someone to turn on the ignition and bring them to life. Anakin had been down to the speeder bay a few times, trailing after Obi-Wan as she picked out a comfortable and boring two-seat speeder for visits to Chancellor Palpatine or to visit boring museums she insisted Anakin should see.

Once, she let him pick out their speeder and he had gone for a shiny blue Kuati three seater with a super-cooled turbo-charged engine that was originally built for suborbital swoop racing. It even had a small aerodynamic rear fin that reminded him of his pod racer back on Tatooine.

She had let him take the long way to the Senate building that day, looping through a few residential neighborhoods under the guise of "teaching Anakin the lay of the land".

Anakin wondered if that speeder was checked in and padded over to the in/out log, picking it out by make and model. The Order only had two in rotation, and he saw the one he liked was available.

He turned towards the vehicles and picked his way through the silent rows before he found the one he was looking for. Standing in front of the speeder, he frowned, trying to mentally calculate how many credits he could sell it for and if it would be enough.

 _Enough? Enough for what? You can't do anything with one. One speeder won't bring even half of what I need to get to Mom, buy her freedom and then get us to Naboo. I'd have to steal two speeders and that skiff and nobody is going to buy that thing! It has the Jedi seal on it!_

Anakin let out a heavy sigh and turned around, sliding down to the ground against the speeder.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his mother, on the warmth of her smile and the feel of her hand on his head. He tried to remember her voice and how she would comfort him when he was sick or angry. He could almost feel her hand on his face, pushing his bangs away from his face, her soft hand cool on his hot skin. He remembered pressing his face into her shoulder when angry about something Greedo had said as she ran a soothing hand down his back.

His missed his mother so much.

Anakin felt so alone in this stone Temple, this marble and gilt structure built on the top of a mountain. The other Padawans disliked him and the Masters distrusted him. He had grown used to their sidelong glances and softly muttered comments about his lack of control and patience. "This is not the Jedi way" was combined with his name so often that he wondered if he should start keeping track, maybe give out an award to the Master who said it the most.

 _It would probably go to Obi-Wan._ Anakin glowered, staring at the floor, sadness overtaking his anger. _She probably hates me now._

Why didn't she like him? Why did the other Padawans gossip about him behind his back? Why hadn't the Council wanted to admit him? Was there something wrong with him? Wasn't he supposed to be some kind of Chosen One? What had Master Qui-Gon seen in that no one else could see?

Why did he keep doing messing everything up? Anakin was trying to be a good Jedi, to meditate and be calm and quiet. He did his homework, even when it was boring and he was really good at his Force work and lightsaber forms. He had managed to lift Master Yoda and his hoverchair five feet off the floor in class the other week and instead of congratulating him the other students had ignored him or called him a "show-off".

What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he make the Temple his home now?

Why did everything hurt so much?

"Skywalker? What are you doing in here, young one?" a deep, warm voice came from above Anakin and he jerked his head up, his face red with embarrassment and tears streaming down his cheeks. It was Master Kit Fisto and he looked concerned, or at least Anakin thought it was concern on the Nautolan Jedi's face.

"Nothing," Anakin sniffed, rubbing his sleeve over his face, balefully remembering Obi-Wan chastising him about disrespecting his uniform earlier in the day. "I'm fine."

Kit did not look like he was convinced by the boy's statement and he lowered himself into a sitting position opposite Anakin. He leaned against the back of a yellow speeder, his hands on his knees and his purple-brown eyes focused on the red-faced boy in front of him.

Anakin pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, his chin tucked against his knees. "I'm okay, Master Fisto. You don't need to stay."

Kit blinked and then tilted his head to the side, his voice low and kind. "No, I do not. But I have chosen to do so and so I shall."

Anakin looked up at Kit, his blue eyes round with surprise and bloodshot from crying. "Why? Aren't you just going to turn me into the Council for insubordination and trying to steal a speeder?"

"Is that what you were going to do?" Kit asked, relaxing against the machine behind him. "I can't blame you. That is a lovely model."

Anakin chewed on his lower lip and looked off to the side. "No… Not really."

Kit nodded, looking back at the door that led to the Temple and exhaling a long breath. Anakin watched him over the tops of his knees, wary and suspicious of a trick. The Nautolan folded his arms over his chest and looked back at Anakin. "Why are you here, young Padawan?"

Anakin frowned at the toes of his boots and rocked back against the speeder. "I… I was… I fought with my master and she wants to send me to Master Mundi and I don't want to go because he hates me and everybody hates me and I don't like it here and I just want to go home!"

He was surprised by the amount of pent-up emotion that escaped him, pouring forth from his soul like a reservoir set free. Anakin looked up at the master, scared that the Jedi would really turn him into the Council now.

"Aaah…" Kit smiled as he nodded. "I understand. I saw you and Master Kenobi leaving the welcoming ceremony. I take it your quarrel took place shortly after your departure?"

Anakin nodded, glumly wondering if Obi-Wan was packing up his things right now, looking forward to handing off the burden of Chosen One to Master Mundi. He closed his eyes as another wave of grief crashed over him.

"Oh young one," Kit sighed and shook his head. "Such pain over so small an event. Come. Let us find your Master. I am sure Obi-Wan would be distraught to know that you were considering fleeing the Temple."

Anakin buried his face in his knees and cursed to himself before he took Master Fisto's hand and stood up.

* * *

Obi-Wan stood outside the door to the suite of rooms she shared with Anakin, taking a deep breath to calm herself before entering. This was going to be a difficult conversation with her Padawan and she would need to keep her sharp tongue in check. She was the adult here and it was her responsibility to make Anakin understand that, while he had misbehaved and would be punished for his actions, she had grossly overreacted and taken personal offense when none was meant.

Yes, that sounded eminently sensible and, dare she say it? Mature.

Obi-Wan keyed open the door and stepped inside. "Anakin? I would like to discuss what happened earlier. Anakin?"

The main living area was empty and just as they had left it this morning, bits and pieces of a disassembled droid on a workbench near the window, a pair of boots Anakin had outgrown leaning against the wall by the door and small brown robe thrown carelessly over the couch facing the window.

The warm afternoon sunlight streamed through the blinds as Obi-Wan hurried over to Anakin's sleeping area, the corner protected by a dark curtain that blocked out sound and light. She pulled the material away, dismayed to see that her Padawan was nowhere to be see.

"Where the devil are you?" Obi-Wan asked, breathing slowly and methodically as she tried to tame the anxiety that was trying to take root in her chest.

"Master Kenobi? Master Kenobi, are you in here?" A warm, accented voice filtered through the front door and Obi-Wan turned around to see Kit Fisto standing in the doorway, an apologetic smile on his face. "I'm sorry to disturb you but I caught this young man trying to flee the Temple."

Kit stepped back to reveal Anakin's sullen, angry face, his nose bright red and his eyes bloodshot from crying. He looked a terrible mess.

"Oh, Anakin," Obi-Wan sighed, hurrying over to him and putting an arm around his shoulder as she smiled at the Nautolan Jedi, who nodded in understanding. Kit placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before he left, the door closing behind him.

Once the door had shut, Anakin jerked out from Obi-Wan's hand and marched over to his bed. He pulled out his old, battered rucksack and started jamming things into it, heedless of the mess he was making.

"And where do you plan on going once you leave the Order?" Obi-Wan asked, seating herself on one of their dining chairs and reminding herself to be gentle with him. "Back to Tattooine?"

Anakin said nothing, shoving a shiny tool deep into his bag. His anger lashed against Obi-Wan's mind: pelting, scouring rain that sought to hurt and silence in equal measure.

She was just like the rest of them, cold and unfeeling. He had thought maybe Obi-Wan was different, but she wasn't and she could keep her kriffing ceremonies and her meditation and her stupid, boring history lectures. He hated history and he hated Obi-Wan.

And he hated crying. Why was he crying?

Obi-Wan sighed softly. "I am sorry, Anakin. I… I should not have said those things, before. I… I felt… I… Oh, stang!"

Anakin stopped packing and waited.

She bowed her head, a hand combing through her hair. "I thought you meant me and my teaching. That I was boring and pointless. That you saw no value in me as your teacher. I have tried so hard to be the perfect Jedi Master," Obi-Wan murmured, looking down at her hands. "To teach you everything you will need, to protect you from a destiny you did not ask for."

Anakin looked down at his pack and fiddled with a buckle.

"I do not know how to be master to the Chosen One," she said, looking at his Padawan braid that she had reworked a week ago. "I know only that… your words hurt me and I was not mature enough to bite my tongue. I punished you for being yourself and that is not the kind of master I want to be, Chosen One or not. I grossly overreacted and I am so, so sorry."

Anakin sniffed. "Do I have to be the Chosen One?"

Obi-Wan looked up, a spark of hope in her eyes. "No! Of course not! You can be whatever you want."

 _You can even leave the Order if that's what you want._

Anakin nodded, once, rubbing at his runny nose. "What if I just want to be your Padawan? Can I stay if I'm just Anakin Skywalker? And not special?"

"Of course!" Obi-Wan stood up and walked over to the boy, sliding onto the bed in front of him and taking his shoulders in her hands. "You will always have a home with me, little one. Always. I promise. Can you forgive me for what I've done?"

Anakin looked up at her through wet, spiky lashes. "Do I still have to train with Master Mundi tomorrow?"

Obi-Wan laughed and shook her head, using her sleeve to dry his tears. "No. You're stuck with boring, pointless me for at least another day."

"Can I get my garage privileges back?" he leaned in close, wordlessly seeking a hug and receiving it. "Please?"

She sighed and shook her head. "No. You _did_ misbehave at the ceremony. I have not forgotten that."

Anakin closed his eyes and let out a sigh. "Okay… fine. I forgive you. I won't leave."

A great wave of relief washed through them both, surprising them with its intensity. Obi-Wan tucked the moment away for deeper examination while in meditation and Anakin simply let it blow through him, carrying away the worst of the pain.

After a long period of quiet, her Padawan spoke up. "I never meant you. You're not boring. You're wonderful."

Obi-Wan chuckled and rubbed her padawan's back. "Flattery will get you nowhere. You're still banned from the garage for two weeks."

"No," Anakin pushed himself up and looked at Obi-Wan, his blue eyes serious. "I mean it. You're the best Jedi here, even better than Master Windu! You're nice and you listen to me and let me work in the garage, most of the time."

She smiled and ruffled Anakin's hair. "Thank you. It's very generous of you to say so."

"And you can fly a fighter and you killed a Sith Lord!" Anakin was warming up to his topic now that he didn't hate Obi-Wan anymore.

He hadn't _really_ meant it when he thought he hated Obi-Wan. He could never hate his Master. She was his whole world!

She was all he had.

"I have told you before that I was very lucky and he was very sloppy," Obi-Wan replied with a shake of her head. "Now that we are friends again, I am going to get changed and we are going to the dining hall to get something to eat."

"Do we have to?" Anakin asked, slouching in dismay. "Can't we go out to eat?"

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow. "And why would we go out when we have an excellent dining hall here?"

The boy groaned and rolled his eyes. "I don't want to eat in there. People are always looking at me funny and talking about me, like they think I don't understand them."

"Think of it as practice," she said, walking over to the panel where her current rotation of robes and clothing was stored. "One day, when you're a Jedi Knight, you will have missions that take you to places where people don't care for us. What will you do then?"

"Ask you to talk to them!" Anakin replied, pulling out his personal items and returning them to the little shelf over his bed. "Everybody likes you."

"What if I'm not there?" Obi-Wan asked over her shoulder. "What will you do then?"

"Why wouldn't you be there?" he wondered, straightening out a solar fin on his model. "You're gonna be my partner, right?"

She shook her head and finished tying off her sash and fed her tabards through it. "That is not the point of this exercise. What would you do?"

There was a long silence as Obi-Wan pulled on her boots and Anakin came up with a plan.

"I would go rescue you and then you could talk to them and make them see that Jedi are nice," Anakin decided, a smug grin on his face. "Ready?"

"You are incorrigible," She sighed, shaking her head. "Lead on, my gallant knight errant."

"What does gallant mean?" Anakin asked as he headed out the door and into the hallway.

Obi-Wan followed after him. "That sounds like a question Master Nu would just _love_ to answer. Or perhaps that new master from the Chu'unathor! I think we'll ask him tonight at dinner."

"No! Please, Master!" Anakin pleaded, whirling around in the hallway, his face aghast. "You wouldn't!"

"I would," she grinned, her eyes sparkling with the same mischief she had seen in Yoda's. "You can show your remorse by listening quietly and respectfully. If you do… I could be convinced to cut down on your punishment."

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan, his blue eyes wide with shock. "What?! I could… how short? A couple of hours? Days? What are we talking about here?"

She burst out laughing. Anakin would have made a brilliant merchant. "Half."

"And all I have to do is pay attention to Master Talks-Too-Much?" Her Padawan feared a trick.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes. And apologize to him for leaving in the middle of his speech."

She watched as the boy turned the offer over and over in his mind before he nodded. "It's a deal. Shake on it?"

Obi-Wan took his smaller hand and gave Anakin a good firm shake. "A pleasure negotiating with you, Master Skywalker."

"You're not very good at haggling, Master Kenobi," Anakin replied with a cheeky grin as he hurried along toward the dining hall and the hardship he had to face to get back to his beloved speeder. She followed after him, shaking her head.

 _Always on the move, my little storm cloud._


End file.
